Guilt by Association
by lizaD
Summary: All it took to stir up an ill will so strong that it nearly swept Evan away - one published photograph.
1. Chapter 1

**Guilt by Association**

A/N: Let's hear it for snow days. This is a work in progress. Enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only. Characters from the USA Network show Royal Pains were only borrowed for a bit.

Summary: All it took to stir up an ill will so strong that it nearly swept Evan away - one published photograph.

**Chapter 1**

Hank thumbed through a well-worn In-Touch magazine. He bypassed all the glossy celebrity pics, gossip columns, and settled on a colorful advertisement for a quick fix weight-loss medication. The drained doctor held the waver-thin magazine in both hands as he tried to make sense of the barely discernible wording of the wonder drugs "possible" side effects.

The door opened and noise from the busy corridor swept in and filled the small room's silent empty spaces. Hank watched hawk-like as the ICU nurse silently went about completing his scheduled tasks. Hank closed the magazine and warmly greeted the man. Salvatore, who had earlier traded introductions with Hank, returned the favor, made small talk with the physician before he went about his routine. He completed each task with a skill and precision that only came from years of experience and the fact that his work was once again under tight scrutiny did not hamper or throw him off his game. Before leaving, Salvatore suggested to the yawning older man that it might be a good idea to try to grab a couple minutes of sleep. Hank thanked him for the suggestion. However, he did not intend to close his eyes, not even for a minute's worth of sleep.

Hank felt the telltale signs of an approaching headache. He haphazardly pitched the lightweight magazine in the direction of the nondescript nightstand. It missed its intended mark and silently slid onto the polished tiled floor. An empty plastic drinking cup wobbled and danced at the edge of the table before it took a tumble.

The clattering noise the cup made when it hit the floor never registered with the deathly still form in the hospital bed. The worried physician retrieved the two items and placed them back in their original positions.

The close quarters and the continued stillness of his brother started to play on the physician's nerves. He glanced over at the figure that now bore little resemblance to his younger sibling. Hank had to look past the discolored and swollen eye, the broken nose, the deep purple bruising, and the stitched lip in order to get a sense of the real Evan. It felt so very wrong for his usually animated brother to be lying so eerily still.

In a move from days long gone, Hank ran his hand across the fabric of lightweight blanket and smoothed away several errant wrinkles that had formed at the foot of the hospital bed. It was an unnecessary act but one that allowed Hank to feel that he had at least done something to make Evan more comfortable.

Ever the perfectionist, Hank checked out the orthopedic surgeon's handiwork. A hard cast ran from just above Evan's elbow to his thin wrist. When the doctor stepped back and took a good hard look at all of his brother's multiple injuries, Hank could not help but feel for Paige. Every time his emotionally spent sister-in-law entered the room, she fought a losing battle to keep her emotions in check. She would ask him repeatedly who could have left Evan so battered, bruised and broken. Hank had no answer. He would give her a reassuring hug; she would flee the room and seek comfort from the growing number of loved ones gathered in the waiting room.

Hank understood her reaction. Even after nearly two decades in the medical field, the only thing that had stopped him from losing it upon first seeing Evan was the fact that Paige needed him to be her pillar of strength.

He took an instant dislike to the trauma surgeon on call. The younger man's pretentious demeanor was off putting at best. Hank knew without a doubt that Evan would have happily informed him that the real reason Dr. Udalstov got under his skin was that the man reminded Hank of a younger version of his old stuck up self.

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The wait to see Evan: nerve-racking

Time dragged.

When they finally heard from a sympathetic member of the nursing staff that the process of moving Evan from Post Op to an available room in the ICU unit had begun, a smidgen of hope sprouted that the wait to see Evan was almost over.

Once the move took place, an antsy Hank and an anxious Paige took turns harassing the poor unfortunate staff member stationed at the information desk for even the smallest update. Time now seemed to move even slower. When the time came when they were finally able to visit with Evan, he was out cold. Paige cried a river. Hank nearly chocked on the lump that had formed in his throat.

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The wait for Evan to wake up: agonizing.

Time stopped.

Hank did not share with his super tense sister-in-law his belief that his brother should have by now exhibited some clear-cut signs of coming out from under the general anesthesia. He tried to think of a time when Evan had ever been sedated (other than the multiple times Hank wished he had been) and came up empty. That lead to all sorts of "what ifs" running through his head. When he tracked down (Evan would no doubt call it stalking) the anesthesiologist, Hank heard his concerns dismissed and received a needless reminder that "every patient has their own timeline." It was only a stroke of luck that a worried Divya tracked track him down and thus saved the anesthesiologist from a hard right. The psychic (according to Evan – the self-promoted expert on all things relating to Divya) P.A. grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him in the direction of the waiting room.

When the moment finally came and Hank observed eye movement behind his brother's eyelids he was torn. He did not want to take the chance of Evan waking up and discovering that he was not only alone but also in a strange environment. Hank erred on the side of caution, pulled out his phone, and sent Paige a text and waited.

A bothersome stress headache was attempting to make its presence felt. Hank rubbed his right temple It was only a few short weeks ago that any hint of pain in his head would have sent the recovering physician into a tizzy. Now, however, having completed his treatment program and physical therapy, Hank had gained a renewed sense of confidence when it came to his overall health. A smile formed on his face when he recalled how a hyper vigilant Evan had hovered around him like an annoying gnat during his period of recuperation.

Once stabilized, he had insisted that Paige and Evan leave for their honeymoon. They both simultaneously answered with a resounding "no." Instead of exploring ancient Mayan ruins with his beautiful new bride, Evan performed chauffeuring duties, took on the role of an overly helpful home health aide, and master chef. Hank was so lost in his memories that he missed the moment when a barely audible word rolled off Evan's lips. However, he did hear a second softly mumbled word. He immediately sprung into action. Hank tried in vain to stop the disoriented man from lifting his head.

10101010101010101010

Evan was at a loss. He could not get his brain to function. He had no idea why he felt so horrible and … weird.

Everything hurt! In addition, there was some sort of odd tunnel vision thing going on. He started to panic. Evan decided he had better take a good look around. It turned out to be a very bad idea. He felt a wave of intense pain start at the top of his head and it did not crest until it met the tips of his toes. He tried to scream but that just created a completely different degree of pain.

"Evan, lie still," a shaken Hank demanded. He almost placed his hand on the center of his brother's chest, then he remembered the rib damage and instead opted for his shoulder, applying a slight amount of pressure in order to keep his anxious sibling from doing even more damage to his recently repaired body. When he was sure that Evan understood that moving again was a very foolish idea, Hank reached for the call button.

Evan focused on the looming face of his older brother. To say that it took considerable effort would be an understatement. He was already losing the battle to keep his eyes open. Evan hurried to find his voice. All that came out was a single word.

"Hey," he whispered. Exhaustion threatened to cover him like a heavy winter blanket.

"Hey, yourself," an emotional Hank responded. It took everything in him to plaster a big smile on his face.

Taking one last stand, Evan tried to give his brother a reassuring smile. However, his swollen and sore upper lip protested. Evan slammed his eyes shut and tried to stop the flow of tears that threatened to fall.

Hank switched to making light circular patterns on an area just below Evan's shoulder blade. His attempt at comfort had failed miserably judging by the tears that now dotted Evan's heavy eyelashes. He tired not to think about the amount of pain his brother still faced once it was decided to scale back on his pain meds.

As if on cue, a small contingent of medical personnel flooded the tight quarters.

Someone ordered Hank to leave. He protested. A polite but equally determined staff member then escorted him to the door.

1010101010101010

Hank intently watched his younger brother's room. He understood that once a free moment presented itself a staff member would come out and present him with up-to-date information. However, that knowledge did nothing to make the wait any less bearable. The weary man sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned against the smooth corridor's wall.

"Hank?"

Hank looked squarely at his recently acquired sister-in-law. Paige, with her red-rimmed eyes, tear streaked face, looked about twelve years old.

"I tried to come back as soon as I got your message. Did you talk to Evan? A nurse said that someone would be out to talk to me." Paige was visibly shaking. "I thought we should hear the news together."

Hank reached out and pulled her into an embrace.

Paige cried into Hank's chest.

He tightened his hold on the trembling woman.

It was unimaginable to think that Evan had fallen victim to such a violent act. Everyone loved Evan. How many times over the years had Evan jokingly pointed out that fact? He has always been the slightly off centered but lovable brother while Hank assumed a more reserved persona. Something like this was so far out of the realm that when Hank received the call from Paige, he had at first thought Evan had put her up to it. It was only when he heard pure terror in Paige's voice that the horror of the situation became all too real.

Hank's mind raced with unanswered questions, his brain swirled with emotions, while his heart just ached.

The sound of a door opening pulled Hank and Paige apart.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_Thank you Mrs. N for your help and suggestions. The winds are blowing and the snow is coming. I'll pass the time working on the next chapter. Reviews are really really appreciated. Hint. Hint._

**Chapter 2 **

Several hours earlier –

When Hank arrived back at the guesthouse he was not the least bit surprised by the fact that HankMed's CFO and P.A. were in the middle of yet another verbal fisticuff.

Over the last couple of years, after an initial spark of attraction, solely on Evan's part, Evan and Divya eventually settled into a brother/sister/love/hate type of relationship. As he passed his work desk, Hank loudly dropped his medical bag to signal the two combatants that he had returned. Neither Divya nor Evan paid any attention to the noise. They continued to squabble.

Amused, Hank pulled out a chair, sat down, and settled in. He wondered what Evan had done this time to push Divya's buttons.

10101010101010

Divya wisely chose to stand behind the kitchen island. She needed a barrier between her and the smug looking accountant. She was sure that Evan had no idea how lucky he was to be safely out of her reach. The exotic-looking woman had given her co-worker one simple directive and Evan had ignored it. Looking over at him, Divya swore if he did not stop smiling, she would reach across the counter and wring his scrawny neck.

"Evan, I'm not kidding. Stop stalling and call Paige right now," the exasperated woman demanded.

"No can do, Divs," the amused man answered. Evan was extremely grateful for the safety zone that the kitchen island provided. "Paige is getting one of those mani/pedi things and I am under strict orders not to call her unless I find myself in a dire emergency." Evan gave his co-worker a shrug of indifference. He then took a long sip of his iced coffee. From over the rim of the cup, he kept a cautious watch on the hot-tempered P.A.

Divya picked up a nice round firm apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.

Evan stopped sipping. He really did not like the way the woman was smiling as she rolled the dark red apple between her hands.

Across the room, Hank sat up in his chair.

Divya contemplated aiming and hurling the hard piece of fruit at Evan. However, years of prim and proper upbringing nipped that thought in the bud. She sadly put the apple back and let out an exaggerated sigh of regret.

Evan relaxed. He had not been sure whether his rather touchy (at least lately) co-worker would give into temptation and actually take aim. The old Divya, not the 2.0 version standing in front of him, never made a move without first plotting a path.

Evan used to think that Divya and his brother were like two peas-in-a-pods. He did, that was, until Hank turned into some kind of male bimbo and started chasing anything in a skirt. Then the Divs inexplicitly went all giddy, gushy, and girly-girl. The changes in the two had caused Evan many a sleepless night. It was a great day when Hank returned to his old tried-and-true roots. Evan was almost positive that something happened between his co-worker and that horse guy. Just like he knew that whatever had been going on was now over and that this new overly emotional Divya was not over the jerk. Evan really missed the old Diyva.

The sound of his co-worker's high decibel voice brought Evan out of his musing.

"You're not even listening to me!" Divya shouted. "I specifically told you to inform Paige that I WOULD NOT participate in this quest to find me a perfect match." She blew a wayward strand of hair out of her face.

Across the room, Hank stifled a laugh. Evan tried to appease the fire-breathing she-monster in front of him. He decided a more direct approach might be best seeing how his point of view did not seem to be getting across. He suddenly remembered something that Eddie had told him years ago.

Hank sat transfixed.

"Divs," a sincere looking Evan solemnly stated, "it seems to me that just because you picked the wrong horse the last time around, doesn't mean that you should skip betting on the next one that comes around the half mile pole." Evan wisely suppressed the urge to smile.

Hank shook his head, rose from his chair, and went on alert just in case Divya tried to do a massive amount of bodily harm to his younger brother.

"A horse race analogy! That's your idea of sound relationship advice. Really, Evan?" the young woman questioned. Diya was in a state of disbelief.

The contemptuous look she aimed at Evan forced his rebuttal right off his lips. He even took a small step backward as a precautionary measure.

"Never mind," Divya dismissed the man with a wave of her manicured hand. She grabbed her oversized handbag off the countertop. "I'll talk to Paige myself."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," the animated man replied. "I'm telling you, Divs, it would be easier to talk the sun out of shining than it would be to try and change Paige's mind once it is set on something." He thought for a minute. "For example, I once mentioned that I did not see myself getting married until I was like forty and…well," he held up his hand and showcased his brand new wedding ring.

"Enough Evan!" the less-than-amused woman warned. She had no more patience for Evan and his silly analogies. "I swear. You are such a pushover." Divya rummaged through her leather handbag. "One little tap and down you go like a domino." She muttered to the inside of her bulky bag.

Evan took a small tentative step forward now that his manhood seemed to be in question.

"You know, I think it needs to be mentioned that Mary Poppins took a pass on that skinny soot covered chimney sweep guy and she ended up blowing in the wind all alone." Evan commented. He moved the fruit bowl out of the direct reach of the raven-haired woman.

"Evan, I swear if I hear one more Poppins comment out of your mouth, I promise you will end up in pain." Divya tried her best to sound threatening. She was completely unaware that as she continued to search the depths of her purse that her nemesis was grinning from ear to ear. Divya triumphantly held her cell phone. She pulled up the phones contact list. "Listen and learn, Evan," Divya said mockingly. "I shall simply tell your lovely wife that, while I appreciate her thoughtfulness, I am far too busy right now to even entertain the idea of-"

"You know, Divs, Poppins chose career over romance and look how well that worked out for her." Evan swallowed hard when he observed his co-worker dark eyes locking in on him.

Hank inched a little closer to the sparring pair.

"Evan!" the exasperated woman snapped. "Are you seriously incapable of being quiet?" She pointed a long thin finger at the human thorn in her side. "I am telling you for the last time. Be quiet."

Evan could not help it. He smiled.

"That's it!" Divya picked up the large apple and threw it.

The fruity projectile sailed past a ducking Evan and landed some where on the stone patio with a thud.

Hank let out a loud laugh.

The sound captured the two combatant's attention.

"Henry!" Evan happily exclaimed. He was glad to see his possible backup and made a beeline for his amused looking sibling. As he approached Evan inquired, "Hey did you manage to get Margaret Jacob's signature on that retainer?"

Jacobs Home Goods was massive moneymaking machine. Poor Martha Stewart paled in comparison. In Margaret Jacob's eyes, there was no room for imitation. The Jacobs Home Goods conglomerate currently claimed the #10 position on the Fortune 500. Evan had memorized the astute businesswoman's meticulously thought out ten-year business from intro to index.

101010101010

The CFO nearly had a stroke when after returning to work he discovered that the Jacob's retainer was about to expire.

The last two months had been nothing short of a whirlwind for the numbers man. The completely complicated wedding Paige had always dreamed of went up in smoke when a snow front met up with a Nor'easter and dumped a massive amount of snow on several states. The force of nature left him having to deal with a stressed out/devastated Paige. Thankfully, the improvised version that Eddie helped them pull together turned out to be exactly what they both needed.

Then shortly after the wedding reception, Hank wound up falling ill and hospitalized. Shell-shocked, Evan was convinced it happened because he decided to come clean to Hank about all his past misdeeds. Despite what everyone told him, Evan was not convinced that his need to unload had not triggered something in Hank's already bruised noggin. Then the honeymoon, which had been delayed, that was supposed to last two weeks turned into a three-week event. Paige's parents decided they deserved an extra week at sea.

Once back on dry land, Evan spent an excessive amount of time attempting to work his way through the backlog of paper work that Hank, Jeremiah, Van Dyke, and Divya put off during his absence. He also spent time attempting to sweet talk his way into seeing Margaret Jacobs. However, the executive's personal assistant kept giving him the run around. Evan was a step away from selling his soul to the devil when Margaret Jacob's assistant called and stated that she needed HankMed's services. She also let it known that her boss specifically requested Hank.

Evan found the wait for the older man's answer almost unbearable. He knew that if they locked down her signature, just like last year, a small contingency of her closest acquaintances would follow her example.

Hank tried to let his eager looking brother down gently. "Okay, Evan, you need to keep in mind that the patient was in a lot of pain when I arrived." The beaming smile on Evan's face started a downward slid. The doctor hurriedly continued, "I'm sorry but it was kind of awkward for me to ask her to sign a new retainer when she was in so much pain."

"Henry," the disappointed CFO all but wailed. "I sent you off with an important objective and…"

"Like I said Evan, the opportunity simply did not present itself…"

"Henry," the disappointed younger man interrupted. "Business opportunities _do not_ just happen. Sometimes you have to make them happen even under less than desirable circumstances."

The doctor looked at his brother to see if Evan was joking. By the set look on his face, Hank knew that his sibling was dead serious.

101010101010

It started to slowly dawn on Henry Lawson that after his socially conscious sibling married into a Senator's family, the obsession for Evan to want to grow the company into some Fortune 500 ideal began all over again The doctor had given his approval for expansion once already. He vowed never to do it again. There was nothing Evan could say that, in the Hank's mind, would justify hiring even one more doctor. As it stood, it had taken Hank a good month to get accustomed to sharing calls with Drs. Sacani and Van Dyke. Hank never mentioned to Evan how much he missed always being on the run. When he worked all those long hours, the heavy workload kept his mind off what was missing from his life. Now with his shortened work schedule it was always there in the forefront of his mind.

Hank was well aware that his need to fling snide comments at his sibling was rooted solely in jealously. It stung to know that his younger brother had taken a chance and gone after what he wanted while Hank, afraid to take the smallest risk, stayed on the sidelines.

10101010101010

"Okay, let's review Evan," the perturbed physician responded. "I treat." He felt the intense iciness of his sibling's stare. Inwardly, he enjoyed knowing that he had once again managed to put a dink in Evan's sickening happy state of mind. "You razzle-dazzle."

_Oh man, it is so on_, the angered younger man silently vowed. Evan had reached his limit. It seemed to him that ever since he came back from his honeymoon, his brother could not seem to let a day go by without uttering at least one mean-spirited comment.

When it first happened, Evan thought that maybe the barbs were just his emotionally stuffed up brother's way of letting him know that Hank had missed him. Evan laughed them off. Now, three weeks in, Evan was no longer laughing. At a loss, he looked to Paige and Eddie for advice.

Eddie, off on a whirlwind book tour, told him to give Hank a little more time to adjust. Then his old man said some stuff about how Hank did not like change and blah, blah, blah. Henry always seemed to get a pass where Eddie was concerned. It should have come as no surprise that Eddie still made excuses for Hank.

Paige, advised him to stay on the high road. Seriously, all that did up to now was keep him covered in tire tracks. Evan was no longer interested in giving Hank time or taking the high road.

"Razzle-dazzle!" Evan echoed the phrase used by his older sibling. "Nice one, Henry. That's how you view my contributions to _our_ continued success."

The air in the room sparked with electricity. Divya forgot all about her urgent need to call Paige Lawson. A peace accord had to be drafted before things escalated between the two headstrong brothers. She definitely did not want to go back to those horribly dreadful HankMed 2.0 days.

"Evan," Divya sweetly exclaimed, "I think what Hank was actually trying to express to you was that he knows that you are so much better at handling not only the massive business details but also the social aspects because you are a people person." She watched the doctor open his mouth and shot Hank a withering look. Divya then turned her attention back to the youngest Lawson. "I really should have told you this long before now but I thought it might go to your head." She had the accountant's full attention. "The reason the company continues to thrive is due to not only your business know how but also your ability to make our clients feel that they have become part of the HankMed family."

Evan stood a little taller.

"So with that being said, it would only make sense for you to go visit with Miss Jacobs and nail down that retainer." She gave Evan her best smile.

When Evan appeared mollified, the persuasive P.A. turned her attention back to the company's main selling point.

"I'm sure that after having received your usual superior care for a year's time, it would be unfathomable to think that Miss Jacobs would not want to continue having HankMed's most requested physician at her disposal."

Hank was not Evan. He did not need his ego stroked. He shot his co-worker a look that told Divya that she had laid it on pretty thick and then smiled.

The silence was soon broken.

Evan excitedly shouted, "Oh my God, I've just thought of the thing that will help me win Jacobs's attention." He stole a quick glance at his Rolex, a very expensive wedding present from Paige.

Hank wondered when Evan became such a watch junkie. He was perfectly content with his well-worn Timex. It took a beating but kept on ticking. All Hank ever had to do was change its wristband every couple of years. The watch was not antiquated or showy like the kind Evan now preferred. It probably cost his newly certified CPA brother, less than a hundred bucks. To Hank though, the watch was priceless. On the back of the timepiece, Evan had paid extra to have the date and time that Hank had completed his emotional and physically draining two-year residency program.

"You're going to buy her an exorbitantly priced piece of jewelry?" Hank replied. He was absolutely sure that his brother's second flashy watch could feed a third-world nation for at least a month.

"Please," the younger man replied. "I don't pay myself enough to buy that woman the kind of bling she's accustomed to wearing."

Hank wondered if Evan was speaking of Margaret Jacobs or Paige. He had helped Evan pick out Paige's wedding gift, and while it was expensive, it paled by comparison.

Evan ignored his brother's prying eyes and grabbed Divya by the shoulders. He pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her smooth forehead. "Thanks for the idea."

"What idea?" The baffled P.A. peered around Evan for some clarification. Hank, however, looked equally confused. He had no idea what was going through his brother's head. Sometimes he found it was better that way.

"It'll be perfect. I should have thought of this earlier." Evan grew even more excited. His exaggerated hand gestures held his audience spellbound. He was a whirlwind of motion.

Divya grabbed the lanky man by the shoulders and held him in place. "What idea?"

"It just so happens to be the 25th anniversary of The Jacobs Home Goods launch." He wiggled out of the P.A.'s light grip and started pacing all over again.

It was Hank's turn to stop Evan in his tracks. He patiently inquired, "Where exactly is this train of thought going Evan?"

"If I play this right there's absolutely no way that it'll be odd if I show up on her doorstep." Evan decided aloud.

Hank wanted to point out that his brother could be wrong on that count but the big goofy grin Evan now sported stopped him from raining on the younger man's parade.

"Margaret Jacobs was once quoted in a NY Times article as saying that she admired people with persistence. No offense, Henry, but you're not the pushy persistent pain in the ass type."

"Thanks." The older man tried to appear wounded even though he knew the younger man's assessment was spot on.

"Any time," a smiling Evan replied.

"Whereas." Divya turned and pointed a polished fingernail at Evan.

"That should hurt but it doesn't," Evan remarked. "She was also quoted in the same article as saying that her inspiration to become her own boss was..."

"Mary Poppins?" a deadly serious Hank interjected.

"What?" Evan looked at this brother as if he had just lost his mind. "No."

"Way too easy," Divya jokingly scolded the older man.

"The inspiration came from her mother who opened a successful bakery back when most businesses were owned by men and..."

"I'm lost," Hank whispered to his co-worker.

"I thought it was just me," Divya whispered back.

Evan continued despite having lost his audience.

"The bakery was called,' he looked expectantly at Hank, who shrugged, and then to Divya, who repeated the action. Evan shook his head and continued. "The bakery was named "A Spoonful of Sugar" and her mother…"

"Was named Mary?" Divya called out. The usually high polished P.A. suddenly let out an uncharacteristic victory shout.

"Hey, wait! I was…" Hank interrupted the celebration.

"Oh, so close." Evan happily interjected. "Okay, I gotta get out of here. I'll pick up a collector's Edition DVD. I'll have to text Paige on the fly and cancel our lunch thing." He pulled his car keys from his pocket.

"Wow, married 8 weeks and already living oh so close to the edge." Hank called out after his fleeing sibling.

Evan stopped on the patio, laughed, turned around to wave, and then was gone.

Several hours later, seated in a near empty ER waiting room, Hank focused on the sound of his brother's laughter. He was deathly afraid that he might not ever hear that sound again.


	3. Chapter 3

Guilt by Association

Chapter 3

Evan discovered, as soon as the haze in his head started to lift, that he was in a heap of hurt. He had thought that up until now the worst pain he had ever experienced happened on the day his best bud, Joey Freemont, dared him to climb up the Johnson's gigantic maple tree. Evan happily accepted the challenge. He made it all the way to the mid-level of the tree before he met up with a squirrel with an attitude problem and slipped off a knotty branch, crashed to the ground, and broke his collarbone. On that first day of summer vacation, Evan became fifteen-year-old Hank's first taste of emergency medical care.

The pain he felt on that long ago Monday afternoon paled in comparison to the major amount of discomfort he was now experiencing. It was like some white-hot ball of hurt decided to cut a path right though his chest.

Evan tried not to focus on the pain that felt like it increased with every breath he took. He could not even pinpoint exactly where it hurt the most. It seemed to be everywhere. Without the aid of a mirror, he had no idea that his left eye was deeply bruised and swollen shut, that his nose had splints both inside and outside (to buffer the bridge) or that a portion of his top lip now featured a dozen finely placed sutures.

Evan searched the sea of faces that stared down at him for the one that belonged to his older brother. When he realized that Hank was not among the concerned looking faces, a woozy Evan started to wonder if he had even really talked with his brother.

The oldest looking unfamiliar face started peppering him with inane questions. _What is your name? What year is it? Are you married? Do you have any siblings?_ Even though he gave short answers, Evan figured that he must have given the right ones because the doctor looked relieved. Evan wanted the trio to go away. He was beginning to feel like a specimen on a Petri dish.

The only face the hurting man wanted to see was the one that belonged Hank. Evan needed his brother to come back so that he could ask him to call Paige. Thinking of his beautiful wife had Evan on the brink of tears. The doctor must have noted his distress and started questioning him all over again.

When asked to attach a number from one to ten to his pain, Evan lied and gave his pain a score of eight. He figured it sounded just right; it was neither too high nor too low. He was not about to tell the towering trio that his pain was more like a twelve. He knew from tagging along with Hank that honesty usually earned a HankMed patient a hospital stay.

Evan could tell from the looks exchanged between Winkin, Blinkin, and Nod (a random recollection of his mother's favorite childhood poem) that the doctors were not buying his answer. He desperately needed a distraction from their prying eyes and found it in the black and white chrome wall clock.

The clock brought back memories of long boring school days. It was a frustrating time when a disinterested Evan would track of the time of each of his slow moving classes. The school day, Evan remembered, felt like it was a thousand hours long. It did not help that he never did quite get the hang of that whole sit still/be quiet rule. He was positive that his teachers rejoiced on the days he stayed home. Never figuring out that he purposely skipped school in order to stay home and entertain his ailing mother.

It took several seconds for it to register in Evan's scattered brain that the hands on the clock were hovering over the bold-faced numbers ten and six. Evan was totally confused because he was 99.9% sure that he had left the guesthouse around ten o'clock. He sent a text to Paige that he had to rally the troops for an important midmorning meeting and because of the sheer length of the important items that he needed to cover he would not be able to meet her at Hildreth's, at around 11:30 to look at more overpriced designer furniture. He thought he had gotten off scot-free because Paige had failed to send a reply and then his cell phone played "Maybe I'm Amazed" and his smile faded. After getting an earful from his extremely disappointed wife, Evan recalled that he came up with an idea so shamelessly romantic that it would not fail in getting him back in Paige's good graces.

He was going make dinner reservation at The Red Bar and request the corner table that Paige loved because it was near the bay windows. He wondered if he had made the reservations.

From the stern looks on the trio's faces, Evan decided that it did not really matter since it did not look like he was going home any time soon.

An overly chipper staff member came into the room, spoke with the oldest doctor, and then checked the readouts. She left and then returned and replaced his nearly empty IV bag with a full one. Left to his own devices, Evan tried to piece together a timeline but try as he might he came up empty. The scenario he now found himself in was beginning to freak him out.

The last vivid memories that Evan had of the day was of having trouble locating the out-of-the-way memorabilia store and that of his nearly pitch perfect sing-a-long to "Suit and Tie" ended just as he pulled off the highway.

A memory sparked and he recalled that the movie memorabilia store had a very limited amount of parking spaces and that he wound up parking behind the store, a couple feet from a sticker laden dumpster.

As quickly as the embers of recollection had flashed, they just as quickly sputtered and faded. The brief moment of clarity left Evan feeling even more frustrated.

The oldest looking member of the trio noted the rising numbers, excused himself from the conversation, and addressed his troubled looking patient.

"Evan, my name is Dr. Morrison. I think it's time you and I-"

"Is it still Saturday?" Evan interrupted. He felt like he was living in one of those god-awful overly dramatic Lifetime movies that Paige loved to watch.

"Yes."

"Saturday morning," Evan responded in an uncertain tone.

"It is Saturday night, 10:40 PM." The doctor waited for his words to settle in.

"Wait. What?" Evan took a quick glance at the clock. "Are you sure?"

The expression on the doctor's face never changed. He did not smile, grimace, or shoot up an eyebrow. He just nodded his head. He reminded Evan of one of those animatronics figures in The Hall of Presidents. Evan decided that Dr. Bland needed to get his unemotional self back to Disney for some major retooling.

To keep from totally freaking out, Evan thought about how cool it would be to go to Disneyland with Paige. He had a blast the time he went on his senior high school trip. It was his first trip away from the now far-too-serious Hank and all his rules and expectations. It was like seven days in heaven and Evan made every one of them count.

Evan was still smiling over his Disney days when the two younger doctors' beepers went off and they soon excused themselves and headed for the door.

"_Good riddance_," Evan silently admonished the disappearing twosome.

"Evan I promise that as soon as you and I finish talking that all your family and friends in the waiting room will be able to visit."

"Fine," a tired Evan agreed.

10101010101010

After having spent hours in the OR putting Evan Lawson back together, along with several other colleagues, Dr. Morrison could not help but wonder what kind of cold-hearted SOB could have beaten the seemingly nice man to within an inch of his life and then just left him to die. The doctor tended to agree with the police officer who had followed the ambulance escorting Evan to the hospital that the attack was not a case of road rage. Whoever had attacked his patient had harbored intense ill will for him and when an opportunity finally presented itself; handed out his own brutal form of justice.

100101010101010

"Doctor Bl…um Morrison?" Evan caught himself at the last minute. Amused by his own wit, Evan smiled a slightly crooked smile.

Dr. Morrison broke out of his musings in time to catch a fading smile on Evan's bruised face. He must have done a classic double-tack because his patient's smile almost made a return visit.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes I think so much that I zone everything else out," Dr. Morrison answered honestly.

"Hank," Evan paused. He was determined to get out an entire sentence despite the fact that his upper lip and chest were already in protest mode. "My brother likes to say that I fall asleep before my brain does." Evan found his determination awarded by Dr. Morrison with a hearty laugh.

"My ex used to say she wished the rest of me was as active as my brain."

This time it was Evan's turn to laugh. It hurt like hell but it was so worth it.

"Okay. We should get down to business, Evan," the doctor said with a smile on his face. "You have a lot of people very anxious to come in here and see you. As I am sure you have already surmised you are in the Intensive Care Unit at-"

"Heritage," a helpful Evan interjected. If he had to do stay put, at least it was in a familiar place. Hank did not have privileges but he was able to come and go as he pleased thanks to the Jank years. He could do time at Heritage under those circumstances.

"Southampton. As a rule of thumb a patient with multiple injuries is transported to the nearest hospital with a trauma center." Dr. Morrison could tell that his patient was not happy to learn this information.

The only bright spot in the information given to him by Dr. Morrison was that it helped why Hank never came back. His brother had not taken off. It was a fear so deeply ingrained in Evan that he doubted it would truly ever go away. He often wondered if Hank harbored the same fear but never asked.

Dr. Morrison pulled over a cushioned lounge chair and sat on its arm. Evan took the need to be closer to him as a sign that the doctor had some not so pleasant news to share.

The surgeon took a quick glance at the numbers on the monitors before he started to speak.

"Evan, let's get the big stuff out of the way first. Your spleen ruptured in route. Once we got you stabilized you were taken to the OR where I performed an emergency splenectomy." Dr. Morrison did not miss the look of alarm that flashed across his patient's face. The numbers on the heart monitor clicked upward. He was never quite sure where to begin. Dr. Morrison sized up his patient before making the decision whether he should start with the good or the bad news.

He waited several seconds to allow Evan to digest this information. He then continued. "You also suffered three broken ribs; one of which punctured a lung and caused a penumothorax.

"A penumo what?" a startled Evan wondered aloud. The more the doctor talked the more stress Evan felt.

Dr. Morrison patiently explained the entire procedure. He had just reached the point of going over the need for the clear plastic tubing snaking out of Evan's chest wall when his patient cut short his in-depth discussion.

"When will this come out?" Evan exclaimed. He used his left hand, ignoring the attached catheter, to indicate the clear tubing. The medical knowledge he had picked up from occasionally shadowing Hank and Diyva for the last couple of years kept him from not totally freaking out over all the noise, wires, tubing, and machinery.

Dr. Morrison checked the container at the end of the tubing that was now half-filled with columns of water. He was encouraged by what he observed. "Perhaps as early as tomorrow morning."

"Great," Evan replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He hated knowing that to Paige he must look like some kind of modern day Frankenstein.

"Why can't I feel my left eye?" The numbness of his lip had definitely become a thing of the past and now every syllable and vow he spoke stung like hell. It bothered Evan that his eye was not hurting and throbbing like the rest of him. It felt almost like it was not even there. He raised his hand to check the damaged area but found his quest stopped by a quick moving Dr. Morrison.

"The area around your left eye required surgery because you sustained an orbital fracture. I am afraid that it will be numb for quite some time."

"I fractured my eye?" a panicked Evan exclaimed. He tried to picture how that could even happen. The only thing he could use as a comparison was the time that _really_ old guy Paige once dated, had some weird thing happening in his eyeball. Evan got queasy just thinking about the squishy sound that happened the moment Hank pierced the old guy's eyeball with some makeshift spear-like doodad his ingenious brother had whipped up in a moment's notice.

"No," the doctor reassured. "The eyeball itself cannot fracture. However, the socket bone can fracture. In your case you have what is typically referred to as a direct orbital floor fracture." The physician stated as if he were reading out of a medical journal. He was determined to remain his usual detached self but his personable patient was not making it easy.

"A typical D.O.F.F. Wow, what a relief. I can stop worrying now," Evan responded with all the sarcasm he could muster up.

Dr. Morrison was taken back at first by the biting comment but then he found himself snorting out a laugh. He then apologized for coming off as a patronizing jerk and Evan accepted. The surgeon knew he had met his match. When he continued his discussion, Dr. Morrison did so in a more genuine tone of voice and a more relaxed stance.

"You had the best reconstructive surgeon on your side to fix the D.O.F.F," the surgeon could not help but smile at the acronym. "Dr. Monahan stopped by earlier but you were still under because of the anesthesia and pain meds. He is the go-to-guy for just about every pro athlete in the New York/New Jersey area." Dr. Morrison knew his patient's next question.

"Is my eye okay?" Evan wondered aloud.

"Once the swelling subsides you will have to be evaluated by a top-notch ophthalmologist. Dr. Monahan has already given your wife, Paige, the name of a colleague who-"

"That's not an answer." He knew that trick from when his mother got sick. How many times late at night did he hear Eddie complain about having to pay some specialist when they were paying his mother's doctor to come up with an answer. Evan wondered why if he had to lose some memories it could not have been the ones that made him the saddest? The sound of his doctor's voice brought Evan back to the present.

"Evan, I'm afraid that it is the best one I can give you right now. Anything else would just be conjecture. Dr. Monahan will be back to answer any or your questions."

"I'm taking a wild guess here but I'm thinking his answer will be something like "we'll have to wait and see?" Evan managed a bigger smile this time out.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Morrison responded honestly. He did have some limited knowledge about the possibilities Evan faced. There could be future issues involving continued numbness, double-blindness, or the need for surgical reconstruction. It all depended on what was found after the swelling subsided. He did not want to speak for Dr. Monahan. The doctor respected him and vice versa. "My specialty is more…"

"Body Restoration," the tired man interjected.

"I guess you could put it that way." Dr. Morrison let out a soft chuckle. The more Evan talked, the more the doctor could not see how such an easygoing guy could have acquired even one hotheaded enemy.

"What about my lip?" Evan wanted so badly to shift to a different position but he was too afraid to move. He was not about to ask a nurse to help him move like some old bedridden person. He hoped that when Hank came in his brother would offer some assistance.

"Luckily, your top lip split along the vermillion border and Dr. Thompson closed it with 12 evenly placed sutures. She is an amazingly talented plastic surgeon and she is confident that scarring will not be an issue.

Evan was not all that concerned about winding up with a scar on his upper lip. Paige would probably tell him that it gave him character. He would take a facial scar over losing his sight any day of the week.

"My nose?" Evan knew from the bandages that were threatening to make him permanently cross-eyed (or eye as the case may be) that his nose had to be broken.

"The cartilage was fractured along with the two bones at the bridge of your. Dr. Andrews performed a septoplasty. He realigned, reset, and reinforced the cartilage and the two nasal bones." The surgeon waited several seconds before he continued. "The internal and external nasal splints will have to remain for 5 to 7 days." This bit of news elicited a groan from his patient. "Dr. Andrews will also return after rounds to answer any questions you have regarding the procedure."

This was old news to Evan who had already gone that route before. Lucky for him. He had a brother in his first year of ER rotation and had the best of the best around to reset his slightly off-centered honker.

"Is my arm fractured?" Evan gently raised his left arm and cautiously pointed to the hard cast. His bandaged elbow throbbed in protest.

Dr. Morrison shook his head. It took him a moment to provide Evan with the correct diagnosis. "No. Your radius and ulna bones were broken."

During his many years in the ER and ICU, the physician had seen more than his fair share of broken and mangled limbs. It was, however, the impression left of a deeply grooved hiking boot on his patient's forearm for all to see that highlighted the amount of uncontrolled aggression used in the attack that left the doctor speechless. The process of documenting all of Evan's injuries had to be stopped until the doctor found his voice. As always when the going got tough, Dr. Morrison received a gentle nudge back to reality by his operating nurse, Kathleen.

The digital photographs taken of his injuries would eventually end up in the hands of the investigating officer(s) assigned to find the lowlife who had assaulted Evan. Word traveled fast around the hospital. There was already a buzz regarding how the highly connected Senator Collins demanded that only the hospital's top docs treat his son-in-law. There was even chatter about the heated words exchanged between the father of Dr. Morrison's patient, who apparently was the last to arrive, and the Senator. Tongues wagged because at first, the older brother answered all the staff's questions until Evan Lawson's wife found her voice and how becoming second seed visibly hurt the older man.

Drama was one of the reasons why the surgeon tried his best not to become personally involved with any patient. Evan, however, might prove to be the exception to his long held stance.

Evan waited for the doctor to elaborate. When the older man seemed to again zone out on him, Evan tried once more to focus on a timeline of events. Exhausted, he shut his eye(s) and concentrated so hard that he was sure that it would give him a headache. Just as he was about to give up, a face fought its way out of his subconscious, it was soon joined by the memory of how much getting blindsided by a punch hurt, and then Evan remembered the last words he heard before his world went black. He opened his eye(s). His gut reaction to the memory was to suck in a quick breath. Evan now wished that he had left well enough alone.

The readouts on the monitors charted his distress.

"Evan?" the concerned doctor repeated his patient's name.

He could tell from the startled look on Evan's face that more and more memories were coming back as the "milk of amnesia" worked its way out of Evan's system.

Seeing his patient's initial reaction confirmed for Dr. Morrison that he had made the right decision when he decided not to reveal to Evan that his attacker had stomped on his forearm and caused both its bones to splinter. He would take that issue up with the wife and older brother, who would know when to address that subject with Evan. Dr. Morrison privately hoped that the brother, (he had strong doubts that the wife could), would volunteer to divulge that painful information.

"Southampton's best orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Jacobs, realigned the bones. He needed to insert a series of metal plates and screws in order to keep them stabilized."

"Let me guess, he'll be in to see me later too," Evan said curtly. The memories had stolen his positive outlook.

Dr. Morrison saw the change and tried a little levity to lighten the mood, "Well you know Dr. Jacobs and Dr. Monahan lost the straw draw, which is why there was only the three of us in this room earlier. We feel it's bad policy to gang up on a patient." The doctor's attempt at levity did not receive a warm reception. The discussion was going downhill fast and the doctor's feeble attempt at righting its course had failed miserably.

"Anything else?" Evan snapped. He seriously doubted that he had any more uninjured body parts to discuss. They already covered his head, arms and chest.

"You had several lacerations that needed treating. The most problematic were found on your left elbow and right knee."

"Great," Evan answered sharply. _Of course, why not throw a leg in the mix__?_ he darkly thought. Evan had reached his limit. He did not want to hear about how a laceration can become problematic.

"Evan, I know you're tired but we just have to go over the details of the-"

"I want to see my wife and brother." Evan was done. A deal was a deal.

"Believe me I understand that talking about the assault is the last thing-"

"I was not assaulted. I fell." Evan avoided looking at the doctor and again fixated on the wall clock.

"I'm sorry, but the injuries you received simply do not correlate with that of-"

"I fell," Evan repeated. He continued to focus on the clock.

"Evan, when you were found by the police you were on level ground at the back-"

"I want to see my wife and brother," Evan slowly repeated. He tried not to aim his building anger at the doctor but Dr. Morrison needed to just let things be.

Dr. Morrison plugged on.

"In order to have received the kind of injuries you sustained, Evan, you would have had to fall face first from at least a five foot platform, gotten up, swan dived off the platform one more time. At which time you would have had to land sideways in order to break not only three ribs but your forearm too. You would have had to land with such force to cause enough internal damage as to have your spleen eventually rupture. It's impossible." The doctor did not miss that, as he continued to speak, the younger man balled up his left hand. "Look, Evan, I've been doing this a long, long time. I have seen stuff that would turn your stomach. I have had days when I just did not want to face it. It's okay to be overwhelmed and frightened."

"I'm not frightened," Evan bit off each word as he held the doctor's gaze. The doctor looked at the face of his patient. It was true there was no fear. There was, however, a dark look of cold determination. It was a look that spoke of the man's future intentions. It was a look he saw far too many times on the faces of the assault victim's he treated.

The fact that he would read many of their names posted on the cover story of his morning paper, sadly did not even faze Dr. Morrison anymore. Even in a town of big money and big homes there are those intent on settling a score, no matter what the cost. Looking at Evan, he hoped that he would not be reading the battered man's name in the paper as he sipped his morning coffee. He tried one more time to reach the young man.

"Evan, leave it to the police. They will find whoever did this. It might take a while but there will be a trail and a sentence. You just have to have faith and-"

"I fell!" Evan shouted at the stunned doctor.

10101010101010

In the hallway, Hank and Paige heard the loud response and both raced for the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The door opened just as Paige and Hank attempted to rush through. Hank willingly stepped back to allow his sister-in-law to pass. Paige, however, did not get into the room because she found the entryway blocked by the imposing figure of Dr. Morrison.

"Evan's a little annoyed with me right now," the surgeon answered the duo's questioning looks.

"Good guess Sherlock!" an agitated Evan exclaimed as loudly as his sore ribs, aching nose, and busted lip allowed. Yelling, Evan soon realized, was really stupid. He sucked in a painful breath and blinked back tears. He was starting to wish that he had stayed under for the rest of the night.

Upon hearing his patient's sarcastic remark, Dr. Morrison squared his shoulders. A clearly annoyed Paige Lawson locked him in her sights.

"Why is my husband so upset?" Paige pointedly questioned the towering figure. She did little to hide her mounting displeasure. "Never mind, I'll talk to Evan," she snapped and then pushed past the surgeon.

Dr. Morrison knew without a doubt that the visibly upset woman pegged him as the instigator in the verbal debate. He knew his next discussion with Paige Lawson was not going to start with either a ready smile or a warm embrace.

The two men heard through the open door, a warm greeting of "Hey you" followed by a soft emotion filled "Oh Evan."

Dr. Morrison closed the door to allow Paige and Evan some privacy. He sensed the heat of annoyance coming off the shorter man who now stood directly in his path. The doctor latched on to Hank Lawson's well-defined upper arm and propelled the surprised man to the opposite side of the hallway.

Hank, with his back now against a cold smooth wall, shook off the older man's hold on his arm.

Dr. Morrison took a small precautionary step backward. He had been on the receiving end of far too many shoves, swinging fists and verbal smack downs not to want to take precautions.

Hank recognized the protective stance the older man had taken and instantly felt guilty for having given Dr. Morrison the impression that he could possibly become aggressive.

"I'm fine," the tired younger man exclaimed. Hank was not fine by any means but he wanted Dr. Morrison to understand that he could and would keep a lid on his emotions.

The idea that Evan's surgeon thought that he had the potential to become an emotional powder keg brought to the forefront a memory of a far different exchange.

On a pre-wedding "guy's night" at the guesthouse, Hank had provided the food and beer. Evan provided the entertainment. He brought out every one of his all-time favorite action flicks. Evan chose as the last movie up for the night his sentimental favorite "Brain's Song." Hank nearly groaned when Evan popped the DVD out of its worn case. Over the years together, Hank figured that Evan had made him watch the tearjerker at least a dozen times. Maybe even more. Hank had watched it so many times that he became desensitized. Even the deathbed scene left him dry-eyed. Evan caught him checking out his phone right at the point where Gale Sayers bids adieu to a dying Brian Piccolo and informed Hank that he had the emotions of a sea slug.

Hank had no idea why his brother chose to compare him to a sea creature other than the fact that Evan most likely remembered something he saw on the Discovery Channel.

When Hank tried to play off his brother's odd collection of totally unusable information and told Evan that what he probably meant to say was that he had the emotions of a sea cucumber. A dead serious Evan corrected his correction with a crisp, "Nope, I meant exactly what I said. You have the emotions of a sea slug." His brother then speared the last egg roll off Hank's plate and wolfed it down.

10101010101010

Dr. Morrison watched as a smile replaced the worried expression from the younger man's face. He hated to bring the doctor back to the reality of the day but Dr. Morrison felt it important to bring up his concerns about Evan's state of mind while Paige Lawson was not present.

"Hank!" Dr. Morrison watched as the man's smile receded and the worry lines reappeared. "We need to talk about the anger Evan exhibited when I…"

Hank did not even let the older man finish. He jumped to his brother's defense.

"I appreciate your concern where my brother is concerned Dr. Morrison but to be honest I would be worried if he was not exhibiting any signs of..."

It was the surgeon's turn to interrupt. "Evan told me that he was not assaulted." He waited for his words to sink in.

The surgeon's words knocked Hank off his soapbox of indignity and left him staring at the older man for several seconds.

"That doesn't make any sense." Hank thought aloud. "What does he think…?"

"Evan stated twice that he fell."

"He's not thinking straight. It's probably because of the…"

"Your brother looked me square in the face each time that he stated that his injuries were the result of a fall. When I tried to tell him that there was no way a trip and fall could result in the type of injuries he received, he grew agitated."

"There was a significant amount of time that passed before Evan came out from under the anesthesia." Hank suggested. He had racked his brain for any other plausible reason for his brother's bizarre belief and had come up empty. "It could be that he is traumatized or…"

"Or he has an agenda." The surgeon concluded simply.

"Evan would never …"

Dr. Morrison met the younger man's eyes before he spoke. "Hank, you need to talk to your brother."

101010101010101010

On the other side of the hallway, behind the closed door of Evan's room, there were tears shed by Paige for second chances and carefully positioned hugs. Evan made a heartfelt appeal for his wife's forgiveness for giving in to his nearly obsessive need to succeed. Paige put her raw emotions on display when she asked her husband to be forgiven for allowing her anger to overshadow common sense.

Evan, despite making a pre-wedding pledge to never keep secrets, made a decision to never divulge to Paige that when his call for help went straight to voicemail that he wished that he had thought to call 911 instead. He knew when he placed the call it was a huge mistake but with blood pouring out his nose and lip and finding it harder and harder to breath the only voice he wanted to hear (he honestly thought for the last time) belonged to Paige.

He tried not to think about how terrified he felt when his sight started to recede as he tried to place a call to 911 or how it felt when the phone slipped from his wet hand after he only managing to enter one digit. Evan would ever forget how helpless he felt when his phone hit the asphalt and landed just out of his reach.

The couple sealed their deal of forgiveness with two very carefully placed kisses. Evan was bone-tired but he fought the urge to sleep. There was no way he could even think about sleeping until he was able to get his wife to agree to three very important items. The first thing being that Paige would agree to get some sleep. The second thing he wanted went along with the first; he wanted Paige to stay with her parents until his release. The most important thing though that Evan needed to hear from her was a promise to never tell Hank that in anger she had shut off her phone and his one call for help languished in voicemail for close to forty-five minutes.

Paige had agreed to two of her husband's request. She, however, was wavering on the third.

His lip ached from talking, his nose throbbed and everything from his neck down seemed to be turning on him and it was a real pain in the ass trying to have a conversation with only one good eye: Evan was not about to give up on pestering his wife until he made Paige understand. Her need for total honesty would only end up causing friction between the two people he loved the most.

"Paige, promise me," Evan all but pleaded. He knew the kind of fallout that would come his wife's way if she came clean. He knew better than any one how long Hank could hold a grudge.

"I can't…because of what …it delayed." Paige could not agree. The guilt she felt would not let her. Evan's good intentions would not erase the fact that if she had only kept her phone on, answered his call; the time it took to find him would have been so much less.

"It doesn't matter, Paige."

"It does matter," a crying Paige protested. She grabbed a tissue. "If I hadn't been so childish and turned off my phone then you would not have been laying…"

"It doesn't matter," a frustrated Evan repeated. He waited for his visibly upset wife to blow her nose. He sucked in another breath and tried again. "Paige you got the ball rolling. You helped them to find me. That's all that matters."

It never ceased to amaze Paige how it was always so important to Evan to make the people that he loved feel so much better about their shortcomings. Evan tried and failed to hold in a groan and the reality that she almost lost the chance to grow old with the man she adored hit Paige hard. This time, however, she did not allow the tears to fall. She carefully placed her hand under Evan's and weaved their fingers together.

"I love you Evan R. Lawson," the emotionally exhausted woman exclaimed.

"Right back at you Paige Lawson," Evan replied. He gave it one more shot. "Promise me. Please."

Paige reluctantly gave into his request.

"I promise." She should have known better than to think that she could out stubborn Evan.

Neither Evan nor Paige noticed when the door to the room opened.

"Hey," Hank said lightly. "Didn't you two already make a promise to have and to hold?" Hank missed the look that took place between his brother and sister-in-law because he found his attention immediately drawn to the various monitors. The doctor, with his mind put at ease, turned his focus back to the oddly quiet couple.

"I was just making Paige promise me to go home and get some sleep." Evan helpfully explained. The battered man quickly discovered that something as simple as a yawn jacked up his pain.

Hank saw the tightness of his brother's jaw line. He had no doubt that Evan was in a considerable amount of pain and hiding it from Paige.

"Sounds like an excellent idea." Hank readily agreed. Sleep was something they all needed.

Hank guessed by the couple's easygoing demeanor that the subject of how Evan wound up in the ICU had not been discussed.

He tried to catch Paige's eye but she found a tangled clump of sheet and cover that apparently needed her immediate attention.

She must have felt his stare because Paige turned and looked in his direction. Hank saw from her troubled expression that she had no idea how to bring up the subject of the assault. Hank nodded his head ever so slightly. A look of relief flooded Paige's face.

Evan missed the brief exchange because he was in the process of counting away his pain. He had already counted backwards from one thousand and reached nine hundred and seventy five before he heard his brother's hopeful sounding voice.

"Maybe you should consider getting some sleep too Ev."

"I have to see dad, the Divs, Paige's parents. Paige said they are all in the waiting room."

"Your brother's right. It's after midnight. Dr. Morrison will have both our heads" -she pointed to Hank-"if we parade everyone in the waiting room into your room. I'll explain to them that you are exhausted." She saw the look of concern. "Evan, they'll understand. Trust me they'll all be here bright and early." She looked to Hank for backup.

"Evan, listen in the long run it will be better for you to see them once you've had some time to rest. You know if we let dad in here. He's not going to want to leave."

"Okay," the worn-out man answered. He had really wanted to see his dad. "Tell dad I'll see him soon and to get some sleep." Paige nodded in agreement. "Can you tell Divya and your parents that I appreciate that they stopped by?"

Hank knew his brother was stalling. While he had asked his wife to go home and get some sleep, he really did not want her to leave.

"I'll go and tell them you said goodnight and that way you and Paige can say your goodbyes." Hank was almost used to the feeling of being the third wheel.

"No. Hank you need some time with Evan. I'll go." Paige knew that she had monopolized Evan's time and that the two men needed some time together. She also knew that as long as she remained in the room, Hank would have no chance of getting Evan to discuss the specifics of the attack. Before she changed her mind, Paige leaned over the hospital bed's metal railing, whispered into Evan's ear and gave him one more gentle kiss.

Hank walked her to the door. Paige gave him a hug. He found that when she pulled away Paige appeared to be on the verge of tears. He gave her a questioning look but she took one more worried look at Evan and left the room.

10101010101010

Hank felt that he should go after Paige until he heard Evan moan. He closed the door and claimed Paige's old position near the side of Evan's bed.

The doctor unearthed the pain medication pump from under the clump of bed sheets and blankets. He slid the device under his brother's hand. It did not take a genius to figure out that Evan had more than likely covered up the device the moment Paige entered his room.

"You know Ev, they hooked you up to a PAC system for a reason," the older man commented.

Evan pushed the pump away. He did not intend to fall back into the black hole of nothingness until he could no longer stomach his pain.

Hank decided that it was too late to broach the subject of the assault with Evan but he wanted his brother to know that he had a conversation with Dr. Morrison. He would find time in the morning to have a discussion with Evan.

"Evan I need to be honest here and tell you that I spoke with Dr. Morrison." Hank had his brother's full attention. "Dr. Morrison said that you told him that you fell." When the figure in the bed remained silent, Hank continued. "I'm not here to push you, Evan. When you feel ready to talk about what really happened, I will be right here. Ready to listen."

Hank found Evan's stony silence troubling. He was hoping against hope that it only meant that Evan was contemplating his offer. Hank soldiered on. "The other thing I need to get off my chest is this Evan: if you are entertaining the idea of going after the low-life who hurt you, I am telling you right now it's not going to happen. You'll have to go through me first."

After Hank delivered his speech, he let go of the bed railing that he had been tightly gripping.

A pissed off Evan shut down. He just wanted to everything to go back to the way it had been. He wanted to open his eye(s) and find that it had all been a horrible dream.

Thinking that Evan had finally fallen asleep, Hank moved in closer with the intent of whispering a good night.

Evan felt warm breath on his face.

Terrified that his attacker had returned, he reached up and grabbed a handful of hair.

Hank felt a pain like no other. Instinct made him try to move away from the shearing pain. It only helped double the hurt. He tried to break the hold of Evan's fingers but it was no use; his frightened brother had a death grip on his hair. He stopped pulling and instead moved toward Evan. Hank pushed his head up against Evan's clutched fingers and the pain was almost bearable. Hank, left with no other options, reached up, laid both of his hands on top of Evan's hand, and applied pressure. He heard a gasp of surprise. He pulled his head away, grabbed his shocked looking brother's wrist, and held tight.

He managed to free himself, but knowing that he had caused his brother further pain left Hank feeling awful. His lack of forethought had caused Evan to freak out. If Hank could have kicked himself, he would have done so several times over.

The pain in his hand did two things: it brought Evan back to the here and now and it left him on the verge of tears.

"Evan I'm so sorry," a guilt-ridden Hank exclaimed. "I wasn't thinking." The doctor thoroughly checked the area around the catheter and the dressing on Evan's elbow. Then with the utmost care, Hank placed his brother's arm back on the bed.

"Which time?" a pained Evan inquired. "When you scared me or when you hit me?" Evan then did the one thing he knew would wipe the look of utter guilt from his brother's face. He smiled.

The remark caught Hank by surprise. When he saw the smile, it was all Hank could do not to cry.

"Hank?"

"What?"

"How long are you going to stay?"

"Until you kick me out, Evan." Hank answered honestly. He was, however, fully prepared to sleep in the high backed chair all night if need be.

The room went silent. Hank wondered if Evan had finally given into sleep. He pulled out his cell phone with the intent of checking for missed calls. He also wanted to send a text to Dr. Sacani seeing how he had to jump in and handle a packed schedule. Hank found three texts from Eddie, all with the same message: How is Evan? Give him my love. He decided that it was far too late to call. Hank decided he would compose a short text and send it off, and hoped that the information would allow Eddie to get a restful night's sleep. Hank started to tap out a message.

"I only told Morrison I fell because I was embarrassed."

Hank stopped typing. He kept his mouth shut. He did not want to run the risk of having Evan shut down. It was killing him but Hank remained silent and seated.

"He was older. Bigger." Evan needed to take in a breath. He exhaled slowly and then continued, "When he came up to me, I thought that maybe I had cut him off or something."

Hank white knuckled the arms of the chair. Even though he had advised Evan against even thinking about taking the law into his own hands, right now all Hank wanted was to find this man.

"He sucker punched me. I didn't have time to defend myself."

Now it was all making sense to Hank. Dr. Morrison had gotten it all wrong. Evan had not morphed into some crazed vigilante. Evan was still Evan. He was still the same bighearted guy who would give you the shirt off his back if he even had the slightest inclination that you needed it. The same Evan, who had never met a person he could not charm – until today.

As he watched the minute hand on the wall clock tick away another minute, Evan again heard the angry words that had now seeped into this brain. He knew what his attacker had said was true.

"It was my fault that this happened." Evan admitted to the clock.

Hank felt his stomach drop.

A/N: Thank you Mrs. N. Sorry for the delay but as I stated in the beginning this is a work in progress. Normally I do not post unless the story is completely finished. Every chapter this time around is a work in progress and before I send it off it has been changed at least three times. Enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated.


	5. Guilt by Association - Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: ****_This story is for entertainment purposes only. USA Network owns all rights associated with the program "Royal Pains_****_."_**

**Chapter Five **

During his ER years, Hank heard many assault victims put the blame for the violence dealt to them squarely on their own shoulders. It used to break the doctor's heart whenever he heard a battered, bruised, and broken patient speak of herself or himself not as a victim but rather as a cause factor. The longer Hank worked away from his old ER stumping ground; the less he missed the chaos.

When Evan made his own self-blaming declaration, it took every thing in Hank not to let the wave of emotions he felt show on his face. Feelings of disbelief, shock, and anger would do little to help his brother who for some unfathomable reason felt that he had deserved to be used as a human punching bag. Hank was not sure his heart would ever hurt as much as it did right now.

The doctor was working hard to make sure that his body language; word choice, tone, mannerisms, and reactions to his brother's comments made Evan feel supported and not judged. It was definitely a daunting task for the personally involved physician. Hank tried but could not find one scenario that would allow him to believe that Evan had gotten exactly what he deserved.

Hank moved so that he now sat on the edge of the seat cushion. In a practiced calming tone of voice, he let Evan know he had his undivided attention.

"Evan I'm listening just like I promised."

Evan heard his brother's words and while they gave him a sense of comfort, he continued to stare down the wall clock. It was much easier to address the clock; it did not come equipped with expressive eyes in which he would have to observe deep disappointment.

It was as if all the other sounds in the room evaporated. Hank was hyper focused on catching the next words out of his brother's mouth.

"Paige wanted me to talk."

This information came as a surprise to the older man. Hank had been so sure that Paige had shied away from the unpleasant topic.

"I just…I just didn't want…" Evan let the thought die off and sucked in a needed but painful breath.

"Evan, if you're not ready then you and I can talk about what happened when you are ready to talk. What you need right now is to get some sleep," the older man suggested. He was surprised that his brother was still awake at this point. The doctor was beginning to think that the dosage levels of the pain medications were not adequately meeting his brother's needs. Hank wondered if Dr. Morrison had taken into account Evan's thin frame and then played it safe dispensing the pain meds.

"When will I have to talk to the police?" a miserable sounding Evan inquired. He slowly turned his head and zeroed in on his older brother.

"There is a detective tentatively scheduled to take your statement in the morning around 9 o'clock." Hank answered truthfully.

Earlier in the waiting room there were heated words exchanged between Senator Collins and Eddie. Hank literally had to stand between the two opinionated men. William Collins felt that it served no purpose to stress Evan out by telling him that a detective might take his statement in the morning. The Senator thought it would be best to tell Evan when the detective was literally standing on the other side of his door.

Eddie feeling pushed to the background, argued that the idea was not even worth considering because he knew that _his_ son would need time to get comfortable with the fact the he would have to discuss details of the attack with a total stranger. Paige's father, however, did not concede defeat until faced with the reality that his wife, daughter, Eddie, Divya, and Hank all felt that Evan needed to know about the detective's appending visit.

"Great," a visibly upset Evan turned his attention back to the clock.

It was the "I'd rather have my fingernails torn out" tone of voice that his brother used that made Hank briefly entertain the idea that perhaps Paige's father had been right after all.

I'm sure that the interview won't last more than ten to fifteen minutes," the older man said. In reality, Hank had no idea how long the interview would last. He just wanted to put his broken brother at ease. "He'll take down the necessary information and use it to nail this guy."

"Reality check Henry, this is not an episode of Law and Order." Evan replied mockingly.

The younger man's mean-spirited words hit their intended mark and Evan watched as his hurt sibling lowered his eyes and studied the scuffed floor tiles.

A heavy silence filled the small room. The second hand on the clock made two complete rotations.

"I'm sorry," Evan quietly apologized. He knew that his brother meant no harm. Hank was the quintessential big brother. The brother who for the longest time actually believed that good always triumphed over bad.

"I'm sorry too," the tired older man replied.

"For what?" a bewildered Evan wondered aloud.

"For not nailing down that retainer." Hank answered without looking at his brother. It was finally out the thing that had been gnawing away at his gut all day. The funny thing was that actually saying it aloud did nothing to erase the guilt that he still felt. If Hank had done the one thing that Evan had requested then his brother would have met up with Paige and nothing bad would have happened.

Evan was acutely aware that the pain meds had not fully taken the edge off his pain. He was exhausted, in pain and fed up.

"Seriously Hank, did that brain aneurism you had totally screw up the way you think?" Evan inquired in a strained voice. _Man_, he pleaded to the drugs that seemed to have stalled somewhere in his system, _"Start working already!_ He was seriously afraid that he would start bawling any minute. The pained man sucked in a short breath having discovered that taking deep breaths hurt like hell. A dismayed Evan soon found that even small breaths hurt. He also realized that his theory of talking his way through the pain was deeply flawed.

"Actually no Ev, my brain checked out just fine." Hank responded in a less cheerful tone. _Seriously_, the irked man contemplated, "_first_ _you apologize and then insult me all over again. _

"Then stop making my screw ups your screw ups," the hurting man exclaimed. When he saw the damage his words had caused, Evan quickly added, "Please."

"I'm working on it." Hank answered honestly. It was proving to be a hard habit to break considering all their years together. He then took up a more relaxed position on the arm of the chair.

"Good," a worn-out Evan gave his brother a thumbs up and it earned him a smile. An itch near his busted nose stole his attention. Evan raised his hand intent of scratching at the annoying feeling.

Hank jumped into action. He made a grab for his sibling's forearm. He stopped Evan's hand inches from his newly repaired nose. "You can't Evan," the doctor advised. After a futile attempt at resistance, Hank placed Evan's arm back on the bed.

"I can't itch! Are you serious?" the disbelieving younger man exclaimed. He hoped to god that Hank was just being overly cautious.

"Seriously, bro. Do not itch. Do not sneeze. Do not cough. You have to trust me on this." The doctor answered with just the right amount of conviction.

Evan used a jumbled mashup of explicit words to voice his displeasure.

Hank actually thought that if the profanity-laced tirade Evan just unleashed had a backbeat attached it would probably crack Billboard's Top Ten. He found a reason to smile and wanted to share it but one look at the scowl on Evan's face put an end to that idea.

Instead, he tired to smooth the waters of his brother's discontent with some sound medical advice.

"Evan, it's going to be unbelievably painful if you attempt to do either one of those things. So just don't. Okay?"

"Okay. Fine. Whatever," the disgruntled younger man exclaimed.

Hank felt for his brother. He really did. Evan was uncomfortable, unhappy, and uncertain. His brother faced a long recovery period and the doctor was not sure exactly whom he felt sorrier for: Evan or Paige.

A tired Hank used the metal railing of the hospital bed as a convenient lean to. The doctor was finding it hard to believe that Evan, who had gone through not one but four surgical procedures, was not already in a deep sleep. Hank thought how ironic it was that earlier all he wanted was for Evan to wake the hell up and now all he wanted was for Evan to go the hell to sleep.

Hank had ruled out the need to arrange a meeting with Dr. Morrison to discuss his concern that Evan's pain medication levels needed some adjustments. The physician had his concerns answered when he looked over the shoulder of the staff member who after attending to Evan around 12:30 typed in his latest readouts. Blake, the staff member, also informed Evan that in the morning he would receive three necessary injections. Evan was not happy to hear that he needed the Pneumoccoccus, Haemphilus B, and Meningococcal vaccine that his body now needed to help ward off the possibility of contracting pneumonia and meningitis. Hank knew about the required vaccinations but kept quiet because he knew that the very idea of getting not one but three injections would further upset his brother.

Evan tried his best to talk his way out of the vaccinations. He went so far as to ask Hank to vouch for the fact that he had received all his childhood vaccinations. Blake smiled warmly which gave Evan a glimmer of hope. Until she went and explained how there was no way around the vaccinations.

Five minutes after the nurse left the room, Evan still had the same woeful expression plastered on his face.

"This is just day one, Ev. It'll get easier." Hank stated reassuringly. The expression on his brother's face did not change.

"Truth or just trying to make me feel better?" Evan lost his desire to form complete sentences.

"Truth." Hank looked at his done in sibling and forced a smile he did not feel. "How about getting some sleep now?" Before she left his room, Blake had suggested to Evan that he might want to consider taking something to help him get the sleep his recovering body needed. Evan looked to his brother for backup. Hank reassured the nurse that Evan would eventually be able to fall asleep on his own accord. Blake did not look convinced and stated in no uncertain terms that she would definitely stop back to see if that indeed proved to be the case.

Hank had already decided that he would be spending the night. He moved the high back chair closer to the bed, perched on its arm, placed his elbows on the railing, and rested his chin on top of his folded hands.

"Are you going to stare at me until I fall asleep?" Evan grumbled.

"If that's what it takes," Hank replied. He would stand on his head and sing if he thought it would bring a smile to his brother's face.

Evan turned his attention to the wall clock.

Hank studied the monitors.

"Nothing I tell this detective is going to help find the guy who did this, Henry." Evan offered by way of an explanation. He did not want his brother pinning his hopes on something that he knew was never going to happen.

"You don't know that Ev," the taken aback man quickly responded without taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"This is what _I know_ Henry," a displeased Evan volleyed back. "I got beaten up by some bigger, older, white dude in a grey hoodie and black Oakley sunglasses that I have never seen before." He looked directly at his brother. "That's what _I_ know, Henry."

"That's not useless information Evan. That's a lot to go on." Hank found his supportive observation rewarded with a scoffing sound from his non-smiling sibling. He was fully aware that if that were all the information Evan was prepared to offer in the morning, the interview would be over before it even began. Hank was determined not to let that happen. He was hell bent on helping find the person responsible for Evan's broken state and his determination was beginning to color his judgment. Hank fired off more questions that he felt were essential. "The sweat jacket he had on – was it a pull on or did it have a zipper? Was it there anything usual about it? Did it have a logo on it?"

"Pull on. No and no." Evan crisply answered. He knew the determined look on his brother's face meant that Hank was on a mission. Evan, however, did not have the answers his brother needed. The fact that his brother was interrogating him was not lost on the aching and uncomfortable man.

"What about the color of his hair?" an earnest sounding Hank inquired. He was sure that everything would fall into to place if he could just pull from Evan that one vital piece of information. He sincerely wanted to help his brother.

"I don't know. He had on a baseball cap and his hood was up," Evan answered in a voice that had taken on a decidedly sharper edge. He grabbed a fistful of sheet and cover and squeezed.

Hank failed to notice his sibling's growing annoyance and shot off another question.

"What about his car. Did you notice the make or model?"

While Hank waited for an answer, he could not help but think that even someone as easily distracted as Evan surely would have noticed an aggravated looking and overdressed (for a sunny warm morning) man headed in his direction. _What does it take for warning bells to start going off in Evan's head_? The confused man pondered the answer to his own question as he waited for his brother's response.

"I don't…" a frustrated Evan stammered. " I didn't see his car."

"Okay what about a…"

"I turned around. He was there. Yelling in my face. Okay!" Evan answered in a tight thin voice. He did not appreciate his brother's sudden need to play detective. _What happened_ _to just being there and listening_?" he thought miserably.

Hank wished that he could call in a favor. The frustrated man knew that if Boris was still at Shadow Pond that there would be no place the scum who nearly killed Evan could hide from a man with that much reach and power.

The sound of his brother sighing heavily brought Hank out of his thoughts. He took one look at Evan's pained expression and wished that he could change places with his battered sibling. He honestly thought the darkening of Evan's mood had to do with the idea that he would have to relive the attack with a complete stranger in a couple hours.

"I know that nothing about this is easy, Evan." The doctor knew as soon as he felt the icy stare that his words of support were misinterpreted.

"No you don't Henry," Evan growled. "No one has ever punched you in your eye so hard that you literally saw stars."

"I didn't mean…" Hank tried to extinguish his brother's anger but he knew it was already too late.

Evan turned his attention back to the clock. He did not want to say what he had to say while looking at Hank.

"Or had someone slam you in your nose so hard that you felt it in the back of your head."

"What I was trying to…" Hank realized a little too late that he had done exactly the opposite of what he had wanted to accomplish. The proof was evident in the changing numbers on the heart and blood pressure monitors. He was sure that any minute now a squadron of irate nurses would swarm into the room and drag his butt back to the waiting room.

"And I'm almost positive that no one ever forcibly broke your arm or repeatedly kicked you in your ribs" Evan paused long enough to catch his brief. He was so mad that he no longer noticed the pain the necessary act produced. "Or hit you in the mouth with a rolled up magazine so hard that it split your lip open." Evan used his good hand to point to his stitched and swollen top lip just in case his brother needed a visual.

"Evan, you need to calm down. I swear if I could trade-" Hank could only sit there and listen to the anger that his lapse in judgment had unleashed.

"Oh yeah and when he was done beating me into a bloody mess; he screamed in my face that I deserved what I got because I was the piece of garbage that caused him lose all his money."

Hank immediately noted the change in his brother's perspective. Evan was no longer talking about scenarios that never happened to Hank but was instead talking about what had actually happened to him during the attack.

"Evan what happened to you was not your fault." Hank tried to regain his brother's attention in order to make a connection but Evan refused to look in his direction.

"Then to prove his point, you know that I was a piece of garbage, he tried to throw me in the dumpster but because it was full, dumped me on the ground next to it." The injured man took a much-needed breath. "He tried to throw me in a dumpster!" a still disbelieving Evan stated.

Evan wanted so very badly to hit something. He decided that if his brother asked him one more question, the thing he wanted to hit was going to be Hank.

Hank sat stunned. He felt nauseated. The details of the attack alone had sickened him but to hear that the scum had attempted to dispose of Evan as if his brother was nothing more than a piece of disposable trash was proved almost more than Hank could bear. He would not allow his thoughts to entertain the idea of how the day would have ended had that dumpster had less trash in it.

He tried to swallow the golf ball sized lump that had formed in his throat. When he heard Evan state that his attacker had screamed about losing money, Hank was sure that that the near tragic events of the day had to be somehow connected to the pre-wedding confession Evan had made about finding investors for a "sure thing" deal. A deal put together by the man his brother had recently labeled a "bad bad man" - Howard Katz.

The sound of his brother's tired voice interrupted the older man's almost compulsive need to connect the dots and make sense of what occurred.

"You know what Hank," Evan finally turned from the clock and looked over at his brother. "I was wrong," the younger man stated in a voice chocked with emotion. "I didn't deserve this."

After his declaration, Evan did the one thing that was not on his brother's "Do Not Do" list, he started to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The sight of his brother crying brought Hank instantly to his feet. However, before he could lend any type of comfort, the door to the room flew open and the imposing figure of Dr. Morrison filled the doorframe. The unexpected arrival of the undeniably unhappy looking surgeon had an instantaneous effect on the Lawson brothers. Evan sucked in a sob, and by sheer will alone managed to keep the tears that clung to his lashes from falling.

Hank froze. He recognized the expression plastered on the surgeon's face. He used the same kind of look to warn noncompliant patients or family members that they had stepped out of line. The realization that Blake had kept her promise, returned to the room, found them deep in conversation and reported her findings hit Hank. Dr. Morrison was out for blood and from the cold look he had received, Hank realized that he was about to become the surgeon's main blood donor.

Theodore Morrison covered the length of the room in three long strides.

"Why," the doctor all but bellowed at Evan, "are you still awake?"

Evan wanted to explain that it was proving impossible for him to get even remotely comfortable. However, the startled man only managed to string four words together.

"I tried to but…" Evan spluttered.

"But what?" the peeved doctor inquired, "decided that a lengthy conversation was more necessary than sleep?"

Evan inadvertently gave up the real reason for his being awake when he shot Hank a questioning glance.

Blake quietly slipped into the room. The stern looking nurse took up a post next to Dr. Morrison. The two stood shoulder to shoulder at the foot of Evan's bed.

The fact that he now had three overly concerned individuals in a semi-circle gathered around his bedside was definitely not helping Evan get to the calm and relaxed state of mind he needed in order to shut off the thoughts that still raced in his head.

10101010101010

Hank had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had tried to make eye contact with Blake, but she would not look in his direction. Perplexed by the change in the nurse's attitude, Hank chalked it up to her believing that he had misled her earlier about being able to convince Evan to get some sleep.

"It appears, Evan, that you are unable to get the sleep that I explained was a vital component in the recovery process," the surgeon exclaimed. He silenced his patient's perturbed looking sibling with a raised hand and then continued, "I am going to make a couple minute changes to your medications. Nurse Andrew is here to help me institute those changes. "

Hank took note that he had been correct when he felt that Dr. Morrison had played it safe when configuring the dosage levels for his brother's pain medication. The irony of the moment was certainly not lost on Hank. While Dr. Morrison had played it safe where Evan was concerned; Hank had done the exact opposite and thrown caution to the wind in order to be pain free. Hank knew that he would forever feel a sense of embarrassment over the unbelievably stupid decision he made to attempt to shorten his recovery period: a poorly thought out plan that wound up involving an unsuspecting Jeremiah. It was a God awful bad decision that nearly cost him the respect of the people he loved. Hank had actually thought that his walk on the sneaky side had gone completely undetected. He had been dead wrong. Two weeks after downing his last Oxy, Evan confronted him and demanded to know if what Jeremiah had revealed to him was the truth. Hank doubted that he would ever forget the look of utter disappointment etched on his younger brother's face when he confirmed that what Jeremiah had told Evan had indeed been the truth.

After having spent weeks beating himself up for making such a stupid decision (he still cringed when recalling how he at first tried to put the blame on his post-concussion state-of-mind); Hank accepted responsibility for his mistake, asked for understanding from loved ones, and vowed to just keep moving forward.

The resonating voice of Theodore Morrison forced its way into Hank's thoughts.

"Dr. Lawson you and I need to have a conversation." The steamed-up surgeon dramatically pointed toward the door. The fact that Henry Lawson made the choice to ignore his request only helped add fuel the doctor's already foul disposition.

Theodore Morrison was indeed in a very bad mood. He had just returned home when he was summoned back to the ICU. The doctor had gone above and beyond in his attempt to save the life of a twelve-year-old child named Kaelin. It tore at the surgeon's heart that the only thing Kaelin did wrong in her young life was to lose her bearings in the dark hallway of her brand new family home and tumble head over heels the entire the length of the solid oak staircase. It was just after he spoke with the child's stunned parents that the doctor received a disturbing text. The message from Blake informed him that Evan R. Lawson was still awake. He was not only awake but the unwilling participant in an interrogation initiated by his older brother. In Dr. Morrison's eyes, there was simply no good explanation that Hank could use that would excuse the doctor's behavior. He had put his patient, who was barely out of surgery, in an unnecessary stressful situation.

Feeling under siege, Hank Lawson was now the one in need of some brotherly support. However, when he turned to Evan, he found that his brother was in the process of peppering his nurse with questions. It was clear as Hank listened in that after his discharge Evan did not intend to stay on his prescribed pain medications for an extended amount of time. The idea upset Hank because he knew that Evan was basing it on the fear planted in his brain all due to the biggest mistake Hank ever made. Hank clinched his fist and wished with all his heart that he could go back and redo that moment of weakness.

Dr. Morrison took notice of the younger man's balled up fist and made the erroneous assumption that Hank was looking for a fight. He pointed to the door and barked, "Out now, Dr. Lawson!"

The tension in the room left Evan wishing that he had the strength to pull his cover over his head and hide. The continuing dueling doctor demonstration was not something Evan wanted to be part of in any way shape or form.

When her efforts to keep the peace failed, Blake quietly went about initiating the changes per Dr. Morrison's instructions. She glanced back at her patient to see if the time had come to tell the two alpha doctors to settle their differences elsewhere. As she continued to stare at her patient, Blake heard the younger doctor make a dismissive noise and whirled around to face the two determined doctors.

"I'm not going anywhere until I tell my brother goodnight." A highly annoyed Hank thundered back at Dr. Morrison.

Blake's voice broke up the intense stare down going on between the two stubborn doctors.

"Quiet," she demanded. "He's asleep."

At the same exact moment, Hank and Dr. Morrison turned to look in Evan's direction.

Smiling at what he saw, Dr. Morrison walked over and typed updated information into the laptop that contained patient charts before his co-worker wheeled the cart out of the room.

Hank, however, was at best highly skeptical of his brother's ability to fall asleep so quickly. In fact, he would not put it past his super crafty sibling to be faking it; especially seeing how Hank knew how much Evan hated loud noisy confrontations. It used to be a much younger Evan's modus operandi to go to his room to "lie down" whenever their parents got into loud "grown up conversations" (usually over money or Eddie's lack of direction). Evan would always take refuge in his room until the last puff of the ill wind blew out of the sometimes combustible Lawson household.

When it looked to Hank as if his younger brother might have actually managed to drift off to sleep, a smile formed on his tired face.

As she made her way past Dr. Morrison, Blake touched the doctor's arm lightly. Hank hoped that it was a non-verbal cue to let the doctor know he needed to reign in his emotions and not a green light for Dr. Morrison to go for his jugular. The two had a quick discussion before the nurse pulled the cart out of the room and this time she did make eye contact. However, her brief glance left Hank wondering how he had gone from good guy to pond scum.

"Imagine that, Dr. Lawson. A small tweak of his meds and zero badgering and amazingly Evan is capable of falling asleep." Dr. Morrison noted in a voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hank wisely decided to ignore the doctor's biting comment. He chose not to spar with the overly opinionated man but rather return his focus to his brother. Hank moved closer to the bed, where he found that he needed the support the bed's metal railing. It offered a means to take the weight off his tired feet, but most importantly, it gave Hank something other than Dr. Morrison's thick neck to wrap his hands around.

In a continued attempt to avoid having to make eye contact with the looming surgeon, Hank took a good hard look at Evan. It was then that Hank saw his injured brother through Dr. Morrison's eyes. There were thin lines etched on Evan's face that were not there yesterday. The younger man's fair skin tone that on a hot sunny day required multi-warnings to put on a high SPF sunscreen; appeared now to be an even paler tone. The doctor found that with all the snaking IV lines, bandages, clotting bruises, cuts and scrape that the inert form of his kid brother appeared smaller and more vulnerable than Hank could ever remember.

The sad expression that filtered across the blunt speaking younger man's face had Dr. Morrison second-guessing his harsh stance; especially when he watched Hank take a stealth-like swipe at the corner of his eye with a noticeably unsteady hand.

"Could you tell me what was going through your head when you started interrogating your brother?" Doctor Morrison asked in a far less hostile tone of voice.

It took Hank a full minute to find his voice. When he finally managed to answer the question put to him, it was in a voice choked with emotion.

"I was hoping that I might be able to get Evan to unlock a memory that would help me find the animal that tried to kill my brother." Hank answered honestly. He braced himself for what he was sure would be another stinging reprimand.

"You know Hank; if it were my sibling in that bed and in the same condition, then I would be lying if I did not admit that I would want to find the guy too." Dr. Morrison replied earnestly. Now he truly did feel sorry for the physician in emotional pain. The brother's deep relationship was not easy overlooked. It left the doctor wondering when he spoke with Paige Lawson, how the newlywed honestly felt about sharing her husband's affections. Theodore Morrison added what he hoped would be taken as helpful words of advice.

"Evan does not need you out chasing shadows, Hank. He needs you here."

"At least chasing shadows would let me feel like I'm doing something to help my brother." Hank honestly replied.

Suddenly feeling like he was a hundred years old, a drained Hank Lawson lowered his body onto the padded arm of the chair. He was finding this confessional stuff – energy sapping. He now understood why Evan always waited to the very last moment to make one of his "I need to confess something" speeches.

Dr. Morrison had no further words of wisdom. He had been at this game long enough to know that Hank Lawson would either take his advice or throw it away.

"Do two things for me, Hank." Dr. Morrison waited until he had the spent younger man's full attention. before he continued. "Leave the shadow chasing to the pros. We both know that your brother is in for a very long recovery, and I have a feeling that Evan is no stranger to whining." Theodore Morrison watched a small smile play on the tired man's face. "I am sure that he will find plenty of things for you and his new bride to do."

"He's probably already started a mental list," Hank replied humorously. He yawned deeply, collected his emotions, and then warily inquired, "What is the second thing that you want me to do?"

"I want you to apologize to your brother when he wakes up." Dr. Morrison replied his voice void of any lightness. The surgeon felt very strongly that Hank Lawson's earlier pressing of his patient given the man's medical background had been unprofessional at the least and potentially harmful at its worst.

In hindsight, Hank knew that he had stepped way out of line in questioning Evan and that he deserved the surgeon's wrath. He squared his shoulders and answered the waiting Dr. Morrison.

"I planned on doing just that." Hank responded. In the back of his mind, Hank held on to the hope that when Evan woke in a couple hours that he would be in a less hostile mood then his treating physician.

Dr. Morrison left the introspective younger man on the arm of the chair and moved toward the door.

Hank left his perch when he heard the older man's movement and automatically followed.

Dr. Morrison stopped abruptly, turned and addressed his shorter shadow. "Are you planning on following me home?"

"You said we needed to talk," a confused Hank commented.

"We had our talk Dr. Lawson," a tired Dr. Morrison answered. "Now I'm going to try and grab a couple hours of sleep. I suggest you try and do the same."

Hank Lawson watched the doctor exit the small room without as much as a backward glance. He kept an eye on the door for several seconds not quite sold on the idea that the opinionated Dr. Morrison might not suddenly reappear.

Hank walked over to an overhead bin and pulled out a pillow and lightweight blanket. He walked back to the chair, reached down, pulled the wooden lever and gratefully propped his feet up. Hank reached over and dimmed the light near the bed. He then shook out the blanket, placed the pillow on the chair's armrest, and finally snuggled down into a semi-comfortable position.

"Nite Ev," the worn-out man mumbled. Hank did not expect an answer. The goodnight was just an old habit that he felt needed to be resurrected.

"Nite Henry," a decidedly loopy sounding Evan answered.

Hank wanted to sit up and shout, "I knew it" but instead he smiled at the sheer brilliance of his brother's performance. He continued to smile like a fool until it dawned on him that his brother had most likely overheard every detail of his conversation with Dr. Morrison.

"Evan, about earlier um I am so sorry for grilling you and…" Hank started to explain.

"Don't apologize," Evan demanded. The words were quickly followed by an extended yawn and then an acknowledgment of pain -Oww!"

"No Evan I have to. I was completely out of line and…"

"True...but...I want…" The exhausted younger man's voice trailed off.

Hank winced when he heard Evan's truthful assessment of his overzealous behavior. He waited for Evan to finish his thought. It did not matter to him what it was that Evan wanted; Hank was fully prepared to go out in the predawn darkness to get whatever it was that his brother needed. When he could no longer stand the wait, Hank loudly prompted his silent sibling.

"What is it that you want Evan?" an intrigued Hank wondered. He made sure that his voice was loud enough to gain his brother's attention but not so loud that it brought with it a squadron of angry nurses bursting into the room.

"What?" Evan mumbled. "Sorry… I'm feeling… a little spacey right now."

"That's probably an understatement Evan," the doctor reassured his brother.

"Um…Yeah," the barely hanging in young man replied. Evan tried to form a complete sentence but found the process a lot harder than he remembered.

"Do you need some water?" Hank inquired after he saw his sibling's abandoned attempt to finish his thought. Silence, however, met his request.

Hank figured that whatever it was that Evan wanted would have to wait. Finally believing that his brother had drifted off to sleep, Hank gave his stiff pillow a couple of good whacks and managed to make it somewhat bearable. He laid his head down on the pillow, pulled the cover up under his chin, and felt l his eyelids getting heavy.

"Um…What was I saying?"

The sound of his brother's fatigued voice once again floated toward Hank.

"Go to sleep Evan," the doctor demanded. Hank looked in the direction of the door; fearing the return of Nurse Andrews.

"I just remembered what I wanted." Evan answered sounding for all intents and purposes like a determined ten-year-old.

"Okay, but this is it. What is it?" Hank answered.

The older man was sure that he had this same type of conversation eons ago when Hank, forced to share a bedroom with Evan, also had to suffer nightly as his brother happily chatted away from the top bunk. He remembered how even after Evan had finally shut up and went to sleep; his sibling moved and rolled all night long causing the wooden frame of their unsteady bed to emit earsplitting shrill squeaks. Hank, back then, lived in fear that one night he would eventually be squashed to death under Evan and his ever-shifting mattress.

Can you…re-apologize…tomorrow?" Evan inquired. He had lost track of time and had no idea if it was still Saturday or Sunday.

"Re-apologize," Hank repeated his sibling's request.

"A redo. So that I'll…remember it really happened."

"Evan, I promise that if you stop talking and go to sleep, I will give you a redo." Hank attempted to sound stern but knew he had failed miserably.

"Cool." Evan lifted the arm tethered to the IV line and gave his brother a thumb up sign to seal the deal.

Hank watched as his brother's arm slowly returned to its original resting place.

The room went silent and a cautious Hank once again nestled down in the chair.

"Henry, I'm gonna sleep now." Evan announced in a slurred whisper. His battle not to fall back into the black hole had officially come to an end.

"Sounds like a good idea, Ev," a sleepy Hank agreed and then yawned.

When he was sure that there were no further questions or insights to be aimed his way, Hank Lawson allowed his heavy lids to close.

Blake Andrews had almost stormed into the room when she heard the familiar voices of the Lawson men as she passed in the hallway. She should have put an end to the chatter but found the pair's easy going repartee amusing. The moment she heard a protracted silence followed by steady rhythmic breathing Blake quietly shut the door.

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Ninety-six minutes and one state away, Joseph Flore slept peacefully for the first time in a very long time. Over the course of the last couple of years, Joseph had tried without success to gain an audience with the heavily protected Howard Katz. All that effort earned him was a late night cornering by a thick-necked gorilla type who warned him to stay the hell away from his employer. Unable to get payback from big deal Katz, Joseph decided to go after the financial guru's protégée: the smiling skinny guy who shared a table with Katz that night at The Four Seasons. In Joseph's mind, one of the two men he had waited on that night had to pay for blowing his world apart. He still remembered the sound of the young sharp dressed dude voice. It was the guy's overall excitement that caught Joseph's interest that night. He kept repeating how honored he was that Katz trusted him to sell the idea of "the deal of a lifetime" to his clients.

It was like some freaking miracle when Joseph, who by then had all but given up locating the sharp dressed kid, found an old financial magazine in his useless therapist's office. Right there in the middle of the dusty magazine was an article praising Howard Katz's financial know how. Along with the praise were several pictures of Katz. Joseph almost closed the magazine until he spotted a much smaller picture near the fold of the magazine. It was a photo taken of Howard Katz's table when it had been full of all his "yes men." Seeing those smiling gleeful looking moneymen helped recharge Joseph.

With the help of the photo's tag line and a quick internet search Joseph was able to locate the youngest member of the Katz's inner circle. Even though no articles he read on Evan R. Lawson mentioned a connection to Howard Katz, Joseph did not care. So the kid saw the light and started a new career that did not make him any less guilty. In fact, it made it worse because Evan R. Lawson got a second chance and it landed him a damn nice life. Joseph got no second chance. He lost his savings, his fiancée and then lost not only his "real" job but his waiting job too. It all blew up in in face after he used the investment information he had obtained from eavesdropping on Katz's conversation with the smiling dude. He could care less that Evan R. Lawson was some kind of CFO of some fast rising medical business out in the Hamptons. In Joseph's eyes, that only made the guy look even greedier. The only thing that really mattered is someone paying for what happened to Joseph and if he could not hurt the big fish, then he was going to make sure that the smaller, unprotected fish paid in full.

Joseph smiled in his sleep as he recalled the moment he first hit the kid. The guy never saw it coming. It had been so easy, so quick, and oh man, so satisfying. It sucked big-time that at the very moment when his boot was a mere inch from Evan R. Lawson's battered face, that hippie chick came out of the back of that junk store to catch a smoke and interrupted his fun. There was no way for Joseph to dump the dude in the full dumpster so he had to make due with shoving Mr. Successful between the dumpster and the fence. Joseph beat a hasty retreat before the chick even noticed he was there.

In a couple hours, some poor garbage collector was going to get one hell of a shock when he moved that dumpster.

Joseph pulled up his cover, tucked it under his dimpled chin and continued to dream; secure in the knowledge that he could not be connected in no way shape or form to the beat-down of Evan R. Lawson.

He even managed to put his hookups piece of crap car back in the very same spot that he had taken it from. She probably spent the rest of the afternoon wondering why she still felt so bad. Broads like her should really pay attention and never let their faked named hookups prepare their morning OJ.

Joseph Florey laughed in his sleep.

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Hank had almost reached that place where he could just drift off to sleep when he thought he heard something. He sat up, and with the aid of the dimmed light checked on Evan first before scanning the darkened room.

The half-asleep man decided that the sound must have come from the hallway. Hank settled back into the chair, tucked the blanket under his chin, and waited for sleep to come calling.

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Evan stirred. In the dim light, he caught sight of the top of his brother's head; realized that he was in a safe place and fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.

A/N: Thank you the ever patient Ms. N. for all your help and suggestions in Chapters 1-5. Thank you Emily for tackling Chapter 6. Sorry for the long delay. It was a busy couple of weeks. Enjoy. Reviews appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The interview with the detective lasted a lot longer than either the equally worried Paige or Hank had anticipated. At one point a nervous Paige cracked open the door to Evan's room and listened in on the ongoing conversation. It took her several seconds to realize that her husband and the middle-aged detective were not discussing details of the attack but rather the importance of having a diverse stock portfolio. Upset, Paige quietly shut the door and made a beeline back to Hank. She informed her anxious looking brother-in-law of the nature of the discussion going on and was not prepared when the older man smiled. Paige had expected a very different kind of reaction. She had expected Hank to get upset, jump off the sofa, and storm into Evan's room in full protective mode.

Hank saw the look of confusion on the younger woman's face, he reached for her hand, asked Paige to sit down, and patiently explained that it sounded like the detective had managed to make Evan feel comfortable, earned his trust and obtained the needed information.

Hank and Paige kept their eyes glued on the door.

When the door finally opened, Paige and Hank jumped off the sofa, and it was a race to see who made it to the detective first.

Hank did not know what to do with his disappointment when he realized that the only new piece of information the detective managed to pull from Evan was that his attacker had a chin like Ben Affleck's.

Paige enthusiastically thanked the detective and volunteered to walk him to the elevators. The detective replied jokingly that he was sure that he could find his way back to the elevators.

Detective Linden shook Paige's hand and told her that he would be in touch. Hank, along with a handshake also, received an unmistakable "I'll do my best with what I've got" look from the man.

Paige and Hank watched the man disappear around the corner. They gave each other a reassuring hug before heading into Evan's room.

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Dr. Morrison had not erred on the side of caution and it would take a protracted stay just to get Evan to the point where he would be physically able to leave the hospital. However, despite knowing better, Hank had allowed his mind to entertain the idea that his brother's stay would end up being much shorter in duration. He theorized that Dr. Morrison did not know just how tenacious Evan could be once he set his heart on something. It was on the seventh day of Evan's hospitalization that a dose of cold hard reality hit Hank. Dr. Guiscard, his brother's latest treating physician, decided that even though Evan reached several significant goals: he was not, however, at a point where she felt comfortable signing discharge papers.

An unquestionably disappointed Evan argued that he had already spent more than his fair share stuck in Room 216. Dr. Guiscard left unmoved by his plea went on to state that while she understood his frustration, she preferred that Evan be her guest for "a couple more days." The doctor tried to placate her unhappy patient with a smile: it went unheeded. Evan was fully aware that in doctor speak "a couple more days" meant that he was going to be stuck in Southampton for at least another week.

Hank was not sure who looked like they wanted to cry more: Evan or Paige.

Dr. Guiscard gave Evan a comforting pat on the shoulder, offered Paige a sympathetic look, and then left the room to complete her rounds. By the time Eddie and Divya arrived (within ten minutes of each other), Evan was in the midst of a full-blown funk. The news that Divya had treated one of Evan's all-time favorite singer-songwriters nor Eddie's offer to take him (after he was fully on the mend) along to a book signing, in the city of his choosing, failed to lift a brooding Evan's blue mood.

Eddie, feeling as if he had done absolutely nothing so far to help his youngest son, proceeded to fuss about his youngest son in hyperactive overdrive. Evan went from feeling totally disenchanted to feeling thoroughly exasperated. When Eddie announced that he had to leave in order to keep his contractually obligated book tour on track: the look of utter delight that played on Evan's bruised face had Hank needing to throw up a hand in order to hide his own widening smile.

Divya, with her pregnancy hormones raging, silently reprimanded her co-worker with a steely stare, while Paige shot her husband an equally chilled look. The two brothers swapped "what the hell did we do" looks. Eddie, busy patting down his pockets in search of his car key, failed to notice the group's silent bantering.

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Eddie felt the heavy weight of guilt settle on his shoulders. The next leg of his book tour was not going to afford him much time with his recovering son. He was already in hot water with his publisher and agent for having pulled out of two book related events in order to be with Evan. Eddie had received the shocking news in an emotional phone call from Hank and upon hearing his older son's words, immediately needed to sit down and catch his breath. He had experienced the same kind of reaction when a teary-eyed Divya attempted to explain the complicated neurosurgery that Hank had to undergo.

The older man had the distinct feeling that his absence was something that Evan had already expected to happen. For the first time in a long time, Eddie had the opportunity to make a substantial amount of money – honest money. Closing in on his seventh decade, Eddie was acutely aware of the passage of time. Time was not on his side any more. Eddie had wasted too many years chasing his unreachable dreams. Now he just had one real goal: to leave Hank and Evan money that he had earned out right: not through shady schemes, questionable ploys or one cantankerous racehorse owner named Ted.

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By the time Eddie hit the floor button in the elevator, the worry lines on his face were erased by a smile. As the elevator doors slide shut, he spied William and Ellen Collins exit an opposite elevator. While Ellen Collins did not notice his presence, William Collins noticed and gave Eddie a slight nod of the head. The smile faded from Eddie's face as the elevator's doors swooshed shut. Instinct told him that he had to work fast in order to prevent the perfect Mr. and Mrs. Senator-elect from not only pulling his youngest son from his side but Hank too.

Eddie was aware of the quest to introduce Hank to Paige's newly single cousin - the cardiologist. It was during a toast at Evan and Paige's intimate wedding reception that Eddie's new daughter-in-law once again brought up the idea of Hank meeting her cousin Samantha. He laughed along with the others but Eddie nearly choked on his champagne when a giddy Ellen Collins proclaimed the matching of his eldest son to the cardiologist a near perfect union. By the smile that engulfed his youngest son's face, Eddie knew that Evan would not rest until the proposed matchup between his lonely brother and the beautiful (according to Paige) Samantha became a reality.

Eddie tried every which way to find out from his supremely private older son if the meeting had taken place but Hank true to form evaded giving him an direct answer.

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On the morning of what everyone assumed would be Evan's last day at Southampton; Hank (working in the guesthouse on patient notes) received a call from his flustered sister-in-law. In a tight voice, Paige informed him that because Evan was running a slight fever Dr. Guiscard decided that he had to stay put for at least another 24 hours. Paige dramatically whispered that Evan was now talking about leaving against his doctor's wishes and she needed backup. ASAP! It took Hank almost an hour to get Evan to admit that Dr. Guiscard might know better than he did when the time was right for him to go home.

Hank could not shake the feeling that his strong-willed sibling was in complete denial and did not want to accept the responsibilities that now came along with his immunocompromised status. Case in point: Two days ago, Evan had all but verbally dissected Hank when the doctor tried to introduce the idea of Evan wearing a medical alert bracelet or necklace. Hank wound up shortening his visit due to the pissed off vibe his sibling continued to throw off.

Thankfully, Paige eventually managed to get Evan to agree to carry a medical alert card.

The fact that Evan obviously thought nothing of having a temperature only added to the older man's worries. The doctor did not want to think about how his sibling's lackadaisical attitude might be a precursor to how Evan would approach any future health issues. To appease his sibling, Hank lied and told Evan that he too was disappointed with Dr. Guiscard's decision to keep him hospital bound but secretly Hank was pleased with the doctor's hardline stance.

When Evan's fever climbed to 102 degrees, it earned him the vanquishing of all visitors and a more potent antibiotic regiment.

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In total, it took fourteen long, and at times extremely difficult, days before Evan was determined physically strong enough to leave Southampton Hospital. The afternoon an orderly wheeled Evan out of the hospital; he smiled so much Hank was sure that his still swollen nose and bruised eye had to be giving off signals of deep discontent. Evan, deliriously happy (and with his arm cast signed and brightly decorated by every second floor staff member), just kept on smiling. Hank knew his brother still had a long road to travel in terms of an overall recovery but for now, the doctor focused on the fact that Evan was happy.

At one point Hank was afraid that a growing impatient Evan was going to get up and walk to the parking area. Hank hustled off to bring his Saab around to the entrance. He actually glanced over his shoulder once: just to make sure Evan had remained wheelchair bound.

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Paige aptly christened the fourteen days Evan spent at Southampton "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

While she waited alongside her antsy but elated better half, Paige could not help but recall some key moments that occurred during her husband's two-week hospital stay.

_The Good:_

The moment Evan opened his eyes.

The morning Evan, with assistance, got out of bed and slowly shuffled toward the chair in his room.

The first time she accompanied Evan on a snails crawl walk down the hallway outside his room.

The genuine concern her father showed for Evan. Paige, knew Evan had won her father over with the patience and concern he showed her during her "adoption discovery" trauma. The truth was that if it was not for Evan's advice to give her parent's a chance to explain, Paige probably would still be harboring bad feelings and in avoidance mode.

How she enjoyed seeing how much Evan loved it when her mother fussed over him. On the flipside, though it made her sad to realize all the little sweet moments Evan missed after losing his mother.

_The Bad_

The afternoon she came back after lunching with some old college friends (at Evan's insistence) and found that during her absence Evan had evoked a visitor's ban for the remainder of the day. Apparently, after his latest therapy session, Evan felt he needed some time alone to sort things out in his head; Paige grudgingly honored her husband's request. She went back to her family home.

Before sitting with her parents for dinner, Paige composed a short text that simply read; I love you Evan. I will see you in the morning. She sent it off with the hope that he would read it, change his mind, and ask her to come back and keep him company. Paige was heartbroken when Evan failed to reply.

For the remainder of the night, Paige allowed her mother to fuss over her for a change.

_The Ugly_

The morning an on edge Evan flipped out on Jeremiah was not a good day for anyone involved. Poor Jeremiah had made an ill-conceived observation about the possible complications involved with the type of injury to Evan's eye. Jeremiah fled the room. It took Divya a good twenty minutes to convince Jeremiah to unlock his car door so that they could talk. In any other environment, Evan would have found the doctor's often ill-timed straightforwardness amusing.

The afternoon an unsettled Evan woke up from a bad dream and swore to Paige that he could feel the screws and metal moving around in his broken arm. Despite the staff's best efforts: Evan remained unconvinced and she had to call a busy Hank and ask him if he could swing by in between appointments to reassure and convince Evan that the hardware in his arm was in fact stationary.

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As she watched Hank attempt to guide Evan into the passenger seat, the young woman could not help but wonder what the future held. Shaking off her fears, Paige did what she has always done whenever she felt overwhelmed or unsure; she slapped on a smile and offered to help.

**A/N:** I am sorry for the delay. Thank you to EmilyG for your beta help during a really busy time. I appreciate reviews whether good or bad. They let me know if I am on the right path. Enjoy.


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